The InBetween
by GirlInTheMirror121
Summary: Kurt Hummel is hovering between life and death after committing suicide. No one can hear him. No one can see him. And yet, he is forced to watch what could have been with his family and friends. Loosely based on The Lovely Bones. T for now; please review.
1. Dying

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, The Lovely Bones, or The Mediator series.**

**Note: One of my more provocative Kurt-centric pieces. Based loosely on The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold and The Mediator series by Meg Cabot but does not borrow any of their characters; just the concepts. Please leave a review. **

_My name is Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. This is the story of how I died._

"Get out of my way, you faggot." Suddenly, I was shoved into the wall, my head throbbing from where it slammed against the concrete. I clutched my temples; sure enough, there was blood stuck to my fingers. I groaned in pain and stumbled towards the exit. On my way, I ran into my boyfriend, Blaine.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" He asked in concern.

"Got shoved against the wall…bleeding…" I mumbled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, baby," he clucked his tongue. "Here, I'll get you to the nurse's office…"

"No!" I said a little too quickly. He looked at me strangely. "I mean…no, that's okay," I covered. "I'll just wash up in the bathroom. I'll…I'll see you later."

"Okay. Take it easy," he rubbed my shoulder. I blinked after him as he strode down the hall, knowing it was the last time I'd ever see him. So, I lied to him. It's not like I hadn't lied to Blaine before. When you had been through the shit I had been through, it became laughably easy to laugh to your family and friends, people who supposedly cared about you, but who you know couldn't give two fucks about you once you were cornered and afraid, lost in a dark hole. Squinting against the bright sunlight, I made my way to my truck. My light eyes watered from the sun's glare. I closed them and let the warm breeze brush across my face. It made me almost feel sorry for the act I was about to commit. Almost.

I worked my way on home and opened the front door. Double-checking to make sure none of my family members were present, I locked the door and closed all the curtains, ensuring that I was in relative darkness, secluded from the outside world. Not that I wasn't already secluded from the world to begin with. My heart racing, I ran upstairs to my room and sat down at my desk to write the note. I paused half-way in my writing. Should I even bother leaving a note? Would anyone really care to know the reason I ended my life anyway? No, I decided. I left the unfinished note tucked in the mirror of my vanity for them to find when they came home. Now, where to do the deed?

I eliminated my bedroom; the carpeting was just too precious to ruin with blood. I could do it in Dad and Carole's room, but I wouldn't want to ruin their things, either, nor could I very well do it in Finn's room. The kitchen would be highly unsanitary, and the bathroom probably would be, too. I finally settled on the basement. Why not choose the place where my stepbrother first called me "faggy" and about broke my heart? Why not choose the place where I came to cry whenever things were especially fucked up in my life? It was a good place to go. I grabbed it from where I'd stashed it in a box at the top of my closet shelves and ran down to the basement, heart pounding. I closed the door, and for a moment contemplated whether or not I should lock it. For their sake, I didn't. Make it easier for them to find me after.

I sat in the middle of the floor. How did people sit when they decided to do this? Did they lie down? Sit up straight? And were their legs straight out in front of them, or crossed? Did it really matter, if I was just going to fall backwards anyway? Did I want to have that sensation of falling, falling, falling? Yes, I did. I crossed my legs and shivered in the cool of the basement air. Cocking the gun, I pointed it towards my chest, towards my rapidly beating heart. Taking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes, fingers fumbling on the trigger.

_Then I pulled it…_

To be honest, I thought I'd just be seeing darkness, oblivion. Of course, I don't believe in God or Hell or Heaven, or even Purgatory. If I did, I'd obviously land in Hell, as suicide doesn't exactly buy you a ticket into the gates of Heaven. At the very least, I'd end up in Purgatory. Still, not believing in an afterlife, I thought once you were dead, you were just dead, and that was it. Especially in my case; how could anyone live from a bullet through the heart?

So you could imagine my surprise when I woke up some minutes later.

I could hear sirens in the distance, and I assumed the neighbors or something heard the shot and called the police. Or perhaps someone had just pulled into the driveway and was mere minutes too late. But then I realized that I felt strange. Heavier, somehow, yet light on my feet. I caught sight of my dead, bleeding-out body on the floor, a gruesome sight, yet there was a slight hint of a smile on my face. I started to panic; what was going on? I felt myself; yes, I had texture, I had feeling. I was breathing, in a way, but the body on the floor that was so painstakingly me was not. Paramedics, followed by Finn, ran down the stairs. Finn immediately began to yell for me to wake up. He shook the lifeless body on the floor, calling me to him, but of course I didn't respond; how could I? I was dead, dead and gone. "Kurt, please!"

"I'm right here!" I yelled. I ran up to him and touched him. "Finn, I'm here!"

"Kurt…no…no…" he burst into tears, water droplets falling onto my pale, dead face.

"Finn, can't you see me? I'm right behind you!" I tapped the shoulder of the paramedic that was attending to my body. "Excuse me, sir? What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, son," he was telling Finn. "But your stepbrother is gone."

"No I'm not!" I yelled at full-volume. "I'm right behind you!"

But he couldn't hear me. No one could.

Shakily, I backed up, bumping into the table, accidentally knocking a vase to the floor. It crashed to the tile, breaking into several pieces. "What was that?" Finn jumped. He peered curiously at the shards of glass, wondering how they ended up there. He looked straight into my eyes, I swear he did.

But he couldn't see me. No one could.

I whipped my head around to where I knew a mirror hung on the wall. I could not see my own reflection in it. I curled up in a corner, shaking. How was this possible? My mind raced for minutes as I watched the paramedics bag my body, Finn sobbing on the stairs, and some policemen marking the bloodstains on the floor.

Then it hit me.

I, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, was caught in-between life and death.

**To be continued…**


	2. Caught

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything else this story is based upon.**

**Note: I forgot to mention in the first chapter that I am also borrowing a few ideas from the book Elsewhere by Gabrielle Zevin (which is an incredible novel that I recommend to anyone). Also, I am pleased with the response I have gotten for this so far; please keep it up, fans. **

"Okay," I whispered to myself. "Okay," I said a little louder, knowing now that nobody could hear me. "I'm dead…yet I'm still alive." I blinked, looking around the room. My heart would be racing, if I still had a heart. This was strange; I could talk and think and feel, I could feel things and seemed to be made of somewhat solid mass, yet no one could hear me or see me, and I did not have a heart or lungs. "Maybe I'm a ghost," I mused to myself. "I can walk through walls, in that case!" To test it out, I slowly climbed the stairs of the basement, closed my eyes, and attempted to walk through the closed door. Instead of feeling the funny floating feeling I thought I would as I passed through it, I wound up slamming my head against the solid wood. "Okay, maybe I _can't_ walk through walls," I grumbled. "So then what the hell has happened to me?"

"I can explain that," a woman's voice sounded from behind me. I whipped around immediately. "Down here," she called to me. Cautiously, I re-entered the basement to find a beautiful woman with long red hair standing down there. Like me, she was clearly dead. I could almost see through her to the wall behind her, but just barely, and I realized that's what I must look like as well. "Hello, Kurt," she said softly.

"Who are you?" I questioned.

"I am Kara Evans. I, like yourself, have passed on. But unlike yourself, I act as a liaison between the Dead and the Living."

"Why are you here?"

"When you took your life by shooting yourself through your heart, you left unfinished business here on Earth. Fragments of your heart floated to other parts of the world to hide themselves in clever places, to people who needed it. To punish you by taking your life at such an early age when you had so much to live for, Death has sentenced you to not only find the missing fragments of your heart, but additionally, you will be forced to watch certain events in your life, and to watch your family and friends go about their lives without you."

"What is this, _It's a Wonderful Life_?" I asked sarcastically.

"No, Kurt," she remained calm. "For you truly are dead, but you cannot pass on to the Afterlife until you finish what you have left behind in the Living."

"So what you're saying," I tapped my chin. "Is that I not only have to watch things happen and not be able to intervene, but I also have to do some sort of video-game fetch quest all over the world to find missing pieces of my heart or soul or whatever?"

She nodded. "That is correct."

"No deal," I sat down on the couch, shivering as I caught sight of the bloodstains on the floor.

"That's a shame," Kara sighed. "For I know your mother is missing you greatly."

That caught my attention. "My…my mother?" She had been dead for nearly nine years, and there wasn't a day that went by that I didn't miss her or think of her.

"Yes," Kara said. "She did not want you to die so soon, of course, but she was looking forward to seeing you again. But if you're so sure that you don't want to find your missing pieces…" she began to walk away.

"Wait," I stood up quickly. "So what you're saying is, if I finish what I've done on Earth, I can go to Heaven or the Afterlife or whatever and see my mother again?" She nodded affirmatively. "Okay," I sighed. "I'll do it."

"Good," she smiled. "Your first mission, besides watching your funeral service, is to fix what you've done to your Glee club members—nay, your best and closest friends—by taking your life. If you need my help or guidance at any time, all you have to do is summon me, and I shall appear."

"Got it," I waved her off. "Oh, shit, Dad and Carole are home…"

"Go to them," she gestured towards the door.

I ran up the stairs. "Oh, wait, one more question?" She closed her eyes briefly in response. "How come I can't walk through walls?"

"You're not a ghost, Kurt," she smiled. "Just caught in the In-Between."

"Got it," I carefully opened the door and peered into the kitchen. Dad and Carole were sitting at the kitchen table, talking to Finn. Carole was sobbing, a wad of tissues already crumpled up on the table.

"Finn, tell me again what happened," Dad clutched Carole's hand tightly.

"I told you," Finn was crying softly, his voice shaky. "Kurt must've left in the middle of the day. I didn't see him go, and I'm not sure who the last person to see him was. I forgot my English paper here, so I came during lunch to grab it so I could turn it in at the end of the day. One of the neighbors, Mrs. Johansson, heard the shot and called the police. They were just pulling up when I was. I panicked and followed them downstairs. That's when I…saw him…" his voice broke off, and he put his head in his hands, chest heaving in sobs. "He looked so peaceful," Finn managed to say.

"Did you know that he was suicidal?" Carole whispered.

"No," Finn shook his head firmly. "I had no idea. None of us did. I mean, I haven't told…anyone else…but we should've seen it. But I did find this note on his mirror," he slid it across the table to his mother. I stood over her shoulder and read it along with her and my Dad. She couldn't hear me or see me, but could she feel me? Obviously not, as I remembered that Finn hadn't felt my hand on his shoulder.

"He didn't finish it," Dad's hands were shaking as he held it.

"I guess we'll never really know," Finn said, defeated.

"Well, I'm going to make some calls," Dad said, standing up slowly. "Gotta make the funeral plans and all that…"

"Burt…your heart…" Carole gently reminded him.

"It'll be fine, dear," he reassured her. "It's broken…but it'll hold up just fine." He walked out of the room, crying softly as he began to call family and friends.

"Oh, Finn," Carole sobbed. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"I just can't believe my brother is dead," Finn whispered. I reached out for him, wanting to comfort him, but knew I couldn't. Kara had hinted that I wasn't supposed to make contact with the Living too much. He got up from the table and ran upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him. Brushing past Carole, I followed him and pressed my ear to the door. I heard him sobbing, crying as I've never seen or heard him cry before. I felt guilty; how could I have done this to my family? After some time, I heard Finn talking again, presumably calling Rachel. "Rachel?" He sniffled. "Kurt's dead." I heard her wail from the other line. "He killed himself," Finn managed to tell her. "He's really gone, Rach. He's really, really gone."


	3. Friends

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything this is based on.**

**Note: No reviews on that last chapter? Ah, well. Try to review in the future, my dear readers of this story, so I can get (constructive) feedback on it. Thanks.**

I followed Finn to school the next day. He didn't want to go, and Carole said he could stay home if he wanted to, but I guess he felt as if he had to tell people in person. I shivered as I slid into the choir room after him, watching it slowly fill with my friends. Tina was smiling; had she not heard? I supposed not, as Finn had begged Rachel not to tell anyone else. I found it strange, though, that my death had not made the news in any way, and that my friends in Glee had no idea that I was gone. I sat in my usual seat, praying no one would accidentally sit on top of me. Rachel came in, looking an absolute wreck. "Rachel, what's wrong?" Mr. Schuester asked.

"I…I guess I'm just not feeling well," she lied.

"No," Finn stood up. "She's fine. I just asked her to hold something back from you guys." He took a deep breath. "Kurt committed suicide yesterday."

"What?" Mr. Schue asked incredulously. "Finn, no…"

"It's true," Finn's hands were shaking. "He shot himself…right in the heart…"

"Oh my God," Santana muttered as Brittany clutched her hand in shock.

"No," Tina moaned, dissolving into tears, burying her head into Mike's shoulder.

"Kurt," Rory muttered, looking crushed. I was surprised; I'd hardly gotten to know him.

"No," Blaine's face paled. "Finn, that's not true…Kurt was fine, I saw him yesterday…"

"Apparently, he wasn't," Finn trembled. "Because he went home around eleven and killed himself. I got there…too late…" he broke off into a sob.

"No…" Blaine's face twisted in agony. "No!" He stood up and knocked over the chair next to him, sending me sprawling to the floor.

"Blaine…" I whispered, reaching out to him. "Honey, please don't…"

Blaine yelled in anger, beating his fists against the wall. "No! No! No!"

"Blaine, calm down," Mr. Schue implored, tears in his eyes.

"My fucking boyfriend is fucking dead, Mr. Schuester," Blaine screamed at him.

"Calm your dapper ass down, Anderson," Puck said sternly. "We're just as upset about this as you. I may not have loved the little dude as much as you did, but he was still like family to me, to all of us."

"Sam, come here," Mr. Schue said quietly. He whispered something into the blonde's ear that I couldn't pick up on. I was still on the floor, quivering at the sight of my boyfriend losing his sanity over my death. My God, what have I done? I followed Sam out of the room, unable to stand watching this anymore. The hallways seemed so different, so much changed, though I was in them not even twenty-four hours ago. The odd person or two who walked by shivered as I passed them; could they feel me? Was I already haunting the school? I ended up in Miss Pillsbury's office, listening to Sam tell her what happened.

"Sam, what's wrong?" She looked at him in concern over the twisted look of grief that had clouded over his face as the news sunk in.

"Kurt Hummel's dead," he said, voice breaking on the last syllable.

"What?" She shot up out of her chair. "Just now?"

"Killed himself yesterday," he mumbled. "Finn just told us. Blaine's freaking out. Mr. Schue wants you to come to the choir room…grief counseling…"

"Of course," she quickly hurried out of her office and to the choir room, Sam dragging his heels behind her.

"What have I _done_?" I sunk to my knees. "What have I _done_ to them?"

I tried to run, I really did, but I was chained to the school, unable to run away from my horrible mistake. I thought I would be happier and better off dead; now that I was stuck between the Living and the Dead, I was more miserable than ever before. I shuffled my feet to the choir room, where an emergency, private grief session was taking place.

"My favorite memory of Kurt," Rory was saying, "well, I haven't known him too long, but he did give me a cookie one day when he saw that I was looking sad, and I thought that was really nice of him."

"My favorite memory about Kurt," Tina sniffled, dabbing a tissue to her eye, where her makeup had run. "Is that he was always there for me. Like during GaGa week, when we got harassed in the halls for wearing our costumes. He stood up for me, even though it cost him once or twice."

"He was my dolphin," Brittany said sadly. "And I always thought dolphins were supposed to be happy and untroubled. It makes me sad that he wasn't and that he couldn't tell us about it."

Santana broke down weeping. "Santana?" Mr. Schue asked.

"It makes me so scared," she admitted, "that he was gay, and he was out, and he got so harassed, he got the _shit_ beat out of him verbally and physically and emotionally, and he took his own life because he felt he had nowhere to turn." She gulped for breath. "I'm just so afraid that it could happen to me someday, or to other gay youths…I never thought he would be one of them…he was the 'It Gets Better' of McKinley."

"Yeah," Mike nodded. "It scares me that none of knew he was even suicidal. If we did, maybe we could've saved him, or gotten him to talk to someone."

"I've thought about it," Artie spoke up quietly. "Killing myself, that is. I'm just stuck in this chair for life. I can't do so many things, and I've missed out on so much in life because I can't use my legs. But then I joined Glee club, and I found that my talents were appreciated and used. Suddenly, I had friends that saw me as more than The Boy in the Wheelchair. They saw me as me, Artie Abrams. I'm just…upset…that Kurt couldn't see that we felt the same about him. He wasn't just That Gay Kid Kurt to us. He was Kurt Hummel, amazing singer and friend."

Everyone was silent for several moments. "Artie," I murmured, shaking with the revelation. I was relieved that he, too, hadn't taken his own life, but was afraid to know that he had thought about it, and I didn't know. We had been friends since we were toddlers; how had I not known?

"I think we're all feeling a lot of grief right now," Mr. Schue spoke up. "And we're probably feeling a little bit of guilt that we hadn't known how Kurt was feeling. But I'm not quite sure he'd want us all to mope around."

"Right," Rachel nodded, sniffling. "He'd want the grandest, most spectacular, classy funeral ever, and he'd want us to perform for him, as a group."

"No," I shook my head, crying softly, grabbing onto the back of her chair. "No, Rae, that's not what I wanted…I just wanted you all to forget…"

"So it's settled then," Miss Pillsbury clapped her hands twice. "And if any of you guys need to talk to me about this, my door is always open. I know Blaine went home because he was having trouble dealing with the grief, and if any of you would like to be excused, I'll sign you out, no questions asked."

I looked around the room; Blaine must've left when I was in her office, and I just hadn't seen him. God, how could I have hurt him like that?

_Fix what you've done to your friends,_ Kara Evans' voice rang in my mind.

But I had no idea where to begin.


	4. Funeral

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything this is based off of.**

**Note: I do promise, dearest readers, I'll update Hallelujah soon. I'm just a little stuck on the latest chapter for that (though the rest of the story should be fine to go, once I get there). For now, I shall update this. **

I slipped into the back of the room, mind racing at a million thoughts per minute

_I never thought I'd be watching my own funeral like this._

"Oh God, oh God," I muttered to myself as I caught sight of my body lying in a casket, pumped with chemicals. If I could eat anymore, I would have puked at the sight of it. I closed my eyes and waited for the dizziness to stop before watching my friends and family file into the room at the funeral home.

"Oh Kurt…Kurt," my Dad broke into a sob upon seeing my body. "My son…"

"This wasn't supposed to happen until after we were gone," Carole murmured as she gripped his hand.

"I feel like I failed as a brother," Finn's face twisted in grief. "I should've watched out for him more…I should've seen it…I should've saved his life…Kurt, I'm so freakin' sorry. I'm so _freakin' sorry_."

"No, Finny," I whispered. "You couldn't help it…you couldn't have saved me…I love you, Finny, and you were such a good brother…"

"I can't believe I lost him so soon after I lost Elizabeth," Dad was saying. "He was her boy, through and through…right down to her eyes…"

"He's with her now," Finn nodded. "He's happier, Burt."

"No," I hung my head. "I'm not happier here in the In-Between."

"Oh, Finn," Rachel let out a low sob as she came in wearing a black dress, her hair pulled back into a bun, her eyes tired and sad, as if she hadn't slept in days. "Burt, Carole…I'm so sorry, truly I am. Kurt was one of my dearest and closest friends."

"We know, honey," Carole pulled her into a hug. "He was fond of you, too."

"The rest of the gang is on their way," Rachel said quietly. "Puck was having a little trouble getting Artie's wheelchair into his truck, but they're coming."

"Burt," Mr. Schue said as he came into the room. "Mrs. Hudson—err, sorry, Hummel—I am so sorry. Kurt was a truly special, incredible young man, and this took me by surprise as much as it did you. His voice was beautiful, and will never be forgotten."

"Thanks, Will," Dad said somberly. "Kurt spoke highly of you. Your Glee club really helped him for a while. He went through a rough few years after his mother passed on. I had my son back again…or at least, I thought I did."

"I should've been looking out for him more in the hallways," Mr. Schue said sadly. "I…I feel so much regret right now."

"Not your fault," Dad clapped him on the shoulder. "We're all feeling regret."

"H…h…h…hi," Tina stuttered as she came in with Mike. "I…I…I'm so s…s…sorry. K…K…Kurt was one of my b…b…best fri…fri…friends." Tears streamed down her face, her lips quivering as she clung tight to her boyfriend.

"Yeah, Kurt was an awesome kid," Mike rubbed her back comfortingly.

"Well, thank you two for coming," Carole said softly.

"Tee, it's okay," I breathed. "No…no, stop crying over me like that…" I watched in silence as Rory stopped in with Sam and Quinn, all of them kneeling in front of my casket. Quinn went to make the sign of the cross, but remembered my views of religion and caught herself in time. She instead reached down and touched her cross necklace, murmuring my name under her breath. Sam brushed his bangs out of his eyes, biting his lip so he wouldn't cry. Rory's deep blue-green eyes darkened as he silently mourned my loss, his face falling, looking like a lost puppy. I wished I could read minds so I could see what they were thinking.

"Sorry we're a little late," Puck said as he pushed Artie in his chair. "Technical difficulties," he apologized. "Hey, Mrs. Hud—Hummel. Sorry, I'm still so used to calling you Mrs. Hudson."

"It's okay, Noah," she embraced him.

"How are you, Artie?" Dad asked my childhood best friend.

"I'm holding up okay, sir," Artie pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"I told you, Artie. Call me Burt, please."

"Sorry. Burt," Artie nodded as he wheeled himself over to the rest of the group. I scanned the crowd of friends; seemed like Mercedes, Brittany, Santana, and Blaine were the only ones not here yet. Sure enough, Brittany, accompanied by Santana, came in next.

"I can't freakin' believe it," Santana muttered. "He was the strongest out of all of us, and now he's freakin' dead."

"He's with all the other unhappy dolphins," Brittany shrugged. "He'll be happier there."

"Please, not today, Britt," Santana brushed past her, walking into Finn's open arms for a tight hug while Brittany leaned her head against Quinn's shoulder.

"Where's 'Cedes?" I looked around. "Where is she?"

"Um, hey, Burt," she whispered as she walked up to Dad. "Look…I'm so sorry. Kurt…he was my best friend. I feel so guilty," she hung her head.

"Don't feel guilty, Mercedes," Dad put a hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing you could've done. No one predicted this to happen."

"I still feel bad," she said. "I have nightmares about it."

"You can lean on us whenever you need to," Carole told her. "We know how close you were to him, and we'll be here for you."

"Thanks, Carole," she sniffled as she numbly walked over to Sam, who pulled her into his arms and held her as if he didn't want to let go.

"Take him back, 'Cedes," I begged. "Please, leave Shane and go back to Sam! He's so much better for you! Sam still loves you…don't break his heart again…" I watched various teachers and old friends, including some of the Warblers, come into the room to pay their respects to my dead, cold body. It all seemed like an out-of-body experience—pardon the pun—and so incredibly surreal.

_Oh._

_Oh, no._

"Blaine," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. "Oh, honey…"

"Mr. Hummel, Mrs. Hummel, I'm sorry. Kurt was…he was…the best, most loyal, amazing life partner anyone could ask for. My deepest sympathies for you two, and for Finn. I wish I would've picked up on some of the signals, that I could have seen it coming and saved his life."

"Not your fault, Blaine," Dad put a hand on his shoulder. "Kurt loved you. He did. He never stopped talking about you, and I'd never seen him more at ease with anyone than I did when he was around you."

"I think, with all due respect, Mr. Hummel, I will always love your son," Blaine blinked back tears.

_And I'll always love _you_, Blaine_, I thought to myself as I watched my boyfriend fall to pieces in front of the room of crowded mourners.


End file.
